‘Something to do with Josh, do you mean?’ Karen guessed astutely. ‘You mentioned something about his father coming from Mallorca—did you go there to see his family?’
‘That’s right.’ Becky shrugged. ‘As I said, it was just a flying visit—that’s why I didn’t stay very long. Anyway, I wanted to get home to Josh.’
‘You didn’t take him with you?’
She groaned when she heard the surprise in Karen’s voice. What was that saying about the tangled webs we weave? One lie seemed to lead to another and if she wasn’t careful she would start tripping herself up.
‘He had an ear infection so I didn’t think it would be wise to take him on the plane. He stayed with the childminder so he was perfectly happy.’
She could tell that Karen was going to ask her something else so it was a relief when their new trainee nurse, Debbie Rothwell, put her head round the door.
‘I’m awfully sorry, Becky, but can you come? Holly is crying and I’ve no idea what’s wrong with her. All the monitor readings are fine. I’ve double-checked.’
Becky put her cup on the draining-board and smiled at the younger woman. Debbie was still very nervous about the responsibility involved with working in the IC unit and rarely trusted her instincts where the children were concerned. Whilst the monitoring equipment was invaluable it didn’t supply all the answers.
‘Have you tried asking her what’s wrong?’
‘Well, no, I haven’t, actually,’ Debbie admitted, looking even more flustered. ‘I suppose I should have thought of that first.’
‘Don’t worry. It takes a while to slot into the routine here,’ Becky said kindly, going to the door. ‘Let’s go and have a look at Holly and see if we can find out what’s the matter with her. She’s due to be transferred to a ward once Mr Watts has seen her, so there’s no need to be overly concerned. She’s well on the mend, I’m glad to say.’
They made their way into the IC unit and went straight to Holly Benson’s bed. The four year-old had been admitted the previous week after suffering a stroke. She had been gravely ill at the time and the prognosis hadn’t been good. However, dedicated nursing care, plus the child’s own will to survive, had pulled her through.
The good news was that young children were known to make an excellent recovery after they’d suffered a stroke. Nobody was exactly sure how it worked, but it had been proved that other parts of the brain took over the tasks performed by any damaged areas. With a bit of luck, little Holly would lead a full and active life.
‘Now then, sweetheart, what’s the matter? Does your head hurt or do you have a pain anywhere?’ she asked gently, bending down beside the child’s bed.
Although Holly had been removed from most of the monitoring equipment, she was still attached to the machine that was checking her blood pressure and heart rate. Becky saw the child pluck at the leads attached to her, and gently moved Holly’s hand away so that she couldn’t dislodge them.
‘Want to get up,’ the little girl said, her lower lip pouting. ‘Want to play!’
‘Oh, I see!’
She laughed as she kissed the little girl’s cheek, thinking what a good sign that was. When a child was fretting because she wanted to get out of bed, she had to be on the mend.
‘I’m afraid you can’t get up just yet, poppet. The doctor has to see how you are first.’
She turned to Debbie and grinned when she saw the relief on the young nurse’s face. ‘Panic over. How do you fancy reading Holly a story while we wait for Mr Watts to make his appearance? I wouldn’t like him to think that we don’t keep our patients happy while they’re with us.’
She moved away from the bed after both Holly and Debbie had agreed that it sounded like the perfect solution and made her way down the ward, automatically checking each child as she passed. There were ten beds in the paediatric intensive care unit and every one of them was in use. She had no doubt that the minute Holly was transferred to the medical ward, another young patient would arrive.
St Leonard’s was the only paediatric intensive care unit in that area of London, and beds there were always at a premium. It meant that her role as a staff nurse was a demanding one, but she’d never regretted her decision to work there. The fact that she’d been able to choose to work permanent days had been a real bonus because she didn’t know how she would have managed to look after Josh if she’d had to work shifts.
A smile softened her mouth as she thought about the little boy. Even though it was a huge responsibility, she had never regretted offering to take care of him. Josh was Antonio’s son and doubly precious because of that. She couldn’t have loved any child more than she loved him.
Becky left the ward and went to the office. Sister Reece was on holiday that week so Becky was in charge in her absence and there was a stack of paperwork to catch up with. She opened the office door then froze when she caught sight of the man standing by the window. For one horrible moment she thought she was going to faint as the floor seemed to rush up to meet her.
She saw him turn, saw the concern that crossed his face, saw him take a step towards her—and it was that which steadied her. The thought of Felipe Valdez actually touching her was more than she could bear.
‘Don’t!’
Felipe froze when he heard the total rejection in Rebecca’s voice. Frankly, he wasn’t sure what to do. She looked as though she was ready to keel over, yet the expression on her face dared him to go to her assistance.
He took a deep breath while he tried to think, but it was surprisingly difficult to assess the situation. Knowing that he was the object of all those waves of antipathy that were flowing across the room had thrown him off course. He could no longer take a rational view of what was happening and it shocked him to realise that he was in danger of acting instinctively and without thought.
‘What do you want?’
Her voice sounded cold and sharp, as though all the warmth and sweetness had been drained from it, and he frowned because it was strangely distressing to know that he was responsible for the change. He found himself wondering if he should apologise for what he had done before common sense reasserted itself. If there was any apologising to be done, it needed to come from her, not him.
‘I want to know why you came to see me yesterday.’
He saw her slender body stiffen but he refused to let himself be swayed by this act she was putting on. He had known that she was a nurse because Antonio had told him that in his last letter, but it had been a shock to discover that she worked in one of the most demanding departments in any hospital.
When he’d called at the house where she lived, a neighbour had told him that Rebecca worked in the paediatric intensive care unit of St Leonard’s Hospital. He had taken a taxi there, trying to reconcile himself to the thought of her doing such a demanding job. Yet why should he have been so surprised? Who better than Rebecca Williams to deal with sick children when she was incapable of feeling any genuine emotion? The thought made his heart ache for some reason.
‘You must have had a very good reason for coming to see me, Miss Williams, and I want to know what it was. Although maybe I could make an educated guess.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said quickly, but he could see the fear that had darkened her eyes. ‘I told you that I just wanted to meet you—’
‘And it was a lie.’
He smiled sardonically when she fell silent, wondering why he couldn’t seem to derive any pleasure from her discomfort. It felt on a par with pulling the wings off a butterfly to stand there and mock her, but he couldn’t afford